My Faux Fur Future
by Under.The.Crown
Summary: Lydia and Stiles are married! And it's perfect! Chapter Three: Featuring: Baby
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

I was filled with mixed feelings when he approached my hospital bed. "You're the one I want." Those were his words as his tears stained my gown. I knew he belonged to another, and couldn't help but fear that out was only because a hunter shot me, but none the less I was overwhelmed with joy. Through the rest of our teenage years Stiles held my hand. And after college, he vowed to only hold my hand for the rest of our lives.

He made life work; never looked back on his decision to love me. Stiles was the perfect husband, and soon he would make the perfect father.

I spent the day busy in the kitchen, told him I was taking "a rest day" from work. He told me to have fun and kissed my cheek before leaving for his office.

Shopping for the perfect "you're gonna be a daddy" meal was a bit harder than I thought it would be. I spent at least three hours grabbing things and putting them back. He would love anything really, it was Stiles after all.

That night, two minutes before he should have walked in the door, I started lighting candles. Then a knock came.

"Come on in, baby." I heard the door open and continued on in the kitchen. "I don't know why you're knocking anyway. You live here, goofball."

"Lydia?"

That wasn't Stiles. A voice that deep refused to belong to him. I headed into our living room and smiled at downcast Jackson.

"Jackson. What's wrong?"

His eyes never left the floor as he whispered, "I can't quit."

"That's because you're doing it for the wrong reason. Giving up smoking isn't something you should do for Stiles, you should be doing it for yourself."  
>"I'm not talking about smoking...what's with the candles? Am I interrupting? Should I leave?"<p>

"No, it's okay, for a few minutes. I was just, well, I'm telling Stiles that I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant?" The weird barely made it out of his mouth. "You mean with a mini Stiles?"

"I hope it's a mini Stiles." I smiled.

"Umm, congrats. Really. Um, I'll see you later."

As he turned in haste, he ran right into my husband, Stiles, who caught the wolfs shoulders to prevent him from falling.

"Hey Jacks. What's up?"

If this had happened eight years ago, well, it wouldn't be happening, but Stiles would have known exactly what was bothering Jackson. I never lost that sense of guilt for causing their disconnection. I was something I had to accept as apart of my relationship with Stiles. Those two would never be the same.

"Congratulations."

And with that he left, darting around Stiles and out of the house.

"So I guess you know?"

I gave my husband a quizzical look, "I know what?"

"Jackson didn't tell you? About my promotion?"

"Stiles! Oh my God! I'm so proud of you!" My arms couldn't get around his neck soon enough. We embraced for a minute before I whispered, "You're," I paused for effect, "gonna be a daddy."

"Yeah, your daddy." He smirked.

I smacked his shoulder, "No silly; I'm pregnant."

"What?" Then, he simply fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

One month later, and two months into my pregnancy term, I was doing well, I wasn't nauseous, didn't have morning sickness, life was normal, only there was a forming baby residing within my womb. Stiles was constantly rushing about, using Jackson as a handy man to help with various baby items. I tried to tell him that we would get most things at the baby shower, but he refused to let anything go amiss.

He had been out for most of the day when my phone rang.

"Hey, babe. How's my little guy doing?"

"For your sake, I really hope it isn't a baby girl." I laughed.

"He isn't. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine; I wish you'd quit worrying about me."

"Mmmm, never." I could feel him stick a childish tongue out. "Listen, babe, it's cool if I hang with Jackson today, right?"

"Of course, but...never mind just have a good time."

"Are you sure? I can come home of you need me? I don't want anything to happen while I gone."

"We'll be fine; I'll call you if anything happens."

"Alright, I love you."

"I love you too."

"Such a good daddy," I whispered to my budding child.

* * *

><p>Stiles. We had our time, I guess. Then Lydia got shot and he realized his feelings for her. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slighted. Hell, I'm hurt as fuck, but it's been eight years, and we're now twenty four. I shouldn't be.<p>

And it's not like he ignores me. If anything, sometimes I'm confused as to whether we ever broke up. He kept touch, more than that, he made effort to truly be there for me, squeezing in good times as much as possible. He was caring, if not more.

I had this odd hope that he would come back to me, but no, that isn't happening. Lydia is carrying his child. Lucky her.

To be honest, I'm clearly not on a good place, but I'd be worse off if he had let go of me. The worse thing I do now is smoke; it's illegal, but I could be doing worse. And I have.

I turned the corner of whatever store we were in, I had stopped caring after the second store, and watched him end his phone call. His brown eyes looked at me; couldn't tell if we had ever broken up.

"I'm hungry," Stiles began, "you should take me out for dinner."

I still couldn't tell.

* * *

><p>I heard the door open and close as Stiles walked in, and decided that the baby made me lazy, so I'd wait here for him. He danced his way into our bedroom humming something I suppose he thought was good for the baby.<p>

"Mi amor y mi hijo!" He collapsed into the bed rubbing my stomach. "I missed you," he placed a small peck on my slowly growing womb, "so much."

I smiled and stroked his head. Lately everything seems to be a dream. A perfect dream. This baby would be the perfect end to the first in our trilogy. Yes, the perfect dream.

The only thing that could drag me down was Jackson.

"Stiles, why are you spending so much more time with Jackson lately?"

He continued massaging my belly, silent for minutes before speaking, "I was hoping to repair some of the damage I caused him, before the baby came, that way, he would be an amazing father."

"You want Jackson to be the God Father?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"If I could have anyone raise our child, it'd be him."

I didn't understand exactly why Stiles was doing what he was doing, but it sounded like it came from his heart, which I don't doubt, that's where everything came from. I had to trust him on this one. If he felt it was best, I had to trust him.

"I want this baby to be a good thing for him; represent hope, and love. Maybe then he'll see the way things really are. Maybe then he'll want to be better."

I rain my fingers on top his hair, sleep slowly sinking in. Half awake, I heard dream Stiles whisper, "Maybe I'll want to be better. Love..." And then sleep.

* * *

><p>As I held the inhale, my breath lingered over the word father. Could I raise a child if I had to? Did I want to? I laid my bowl on my nightstand and released, "Stiles," escaped and I closed my eyes. I still couldn't tell. I still couldn't tell. And when I awoke in the middle of the night, I could tell.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 03

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><p>Sounds.<p>

Nice sounds.

Sweet sounds.

* * *

><p>Stiles sounds.<p>

Dork sounds.

Goofball sounds.

Happy sounds.

Laugh sounds.

Loud sounds.

Kiss sounds.

Rub sounds.

Daddy sounds.

Love sounds.

* * *

><p>Lydia sounds.<p>

Happy sounds.

Singing sounds.

Confused sounds.

Worried sounds.

Sweet sounds.

Sigh sounds.

Mommy sounds.

Love sounds.

* * *

><p>Jackson sounds.<p>

Just love sounds.

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><p><strong>Hey guys, sorry about the absence, but I'm back. hopefully this chapter gives a little bit of an idea where this is going. More updates and stories soon. I promise.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

My Faux Fur Future  
>Chapter 04<p>

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><p>"Here she is: your new baby girl."<p>

"Um, dear poor, sad, confused, nurse, you mispronounced the word 'boy."

"Dear sad and about to meet the eve of depression and my amusement new father, no. Just no. It's a girl."

"Well I'm gonna need proof!"

"Do you really want to see your daughters-"

"-No! I trust you."

The nurse smirked; laid a gentle pat on his shoulder and left the room, stopping in the doorway to mouth, "I'm sorry. Good luck!"

"Can we still name her Awesome Jr?"

"Stiles."

"Yes."

"No. Just no."

* * *

><p>December third, 2020, 1:43 AM; our baby girl was born. I wish it had been easy, but is it ever? Don't get me wrong, no, labor was an odd but welcome breeze. The hard part was the constant antics of my husband and friends. Well, my husband and his friends. I guess those cigars became pointless at the realization of "Oh my God, she's a girl. OH MY GOD! I CAN'T RAISE A TEENAGE GIRL! JACKSON! WHAT THE HELL DO I DO WHEN SHE HITS PUBERTY? WE NEED GUNS; SHOT GUNS; AND IRON WINDOW BARS!"<p>

Thankfully Jackson knew exactly which and to slap him shut with, because I couldn't decide. He still found use for the champagne, poppers, water guns, video camera, and Spotify. Train on, young Stiles.

Eventually he slowed and somehow we all fell asleep. Easy sleep, until I awoke a six in the morning to hushed whispered and stolen kisses. Clearly Scott and Allison hadn't left like I thought they would. Cute as ever; those two.

Baby girl. My baby girl. No name. No hate. No troubles. Perfect. I rolled to see her, but it wasn't her that captured me. It was Stiles, the love of my life, staring down at her. Stroking her cheeks.

"Hey, baby temporarily named Isabelle? Can I tell you how much I love you? How much you represent to my world? If it's too much pressure, cry and I'll know to always hide it away. But you mean everything. I just want you to know, even though I won't be here tomorrow, or the day after that, I'll always hold you in my heart. And as I hold your hand now, right now, I want to always remember this. Because I'm a liar. And this could be the most truthful part of me that you'll ever see. I lie all the time. Every day. But not to save my ass. No, but because it's easier for everyone else that way. No one gets hurt when as practiced a liar as I. Only yourself.

The only realm amazing hung to come out of my lies, the only thing that verifies that I'm doing things right, is you. You, my little angel, you are perfect. You are solid proof that my sorrow and my regret were all worth it in the end. That I was right to keep everyone safe.

I'm not leaving because I don't love you, but because I do. And I kill the things I love most. Look at Papa Jackson, I've ruined him. For so long have I slowly poisoned him, barely on the brink of death, and I always bring him back to life because I couldn't let go. I need to let go of you though. Because it's the right thing to do. I won't have you live a life of a father's manipulation a faux joy. I refuse it.

So my gift to you? It's life. A true, free life. My gift is my absence. A life where I won't lie to you everyday. A life where my love is divided and uncertain. A life where you eventually find out that your dad was a dumbass fag who refused to admit he loved the man he clung to so desperately. Where you won't know of my eventual suicide.

I love you little baby. I love you so much. So this is hello. And this is goodbye."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and that's when I saw the tears. Then he left. Out of the room. Out of our lives. I didn't care about anything he said; only that he wasn't planning on coming back. Not for any of us. And I cried. I cried.

That's he stood, when Jackson stood, and rubbed my head, whispering, "I'm sorry. So sorry."

* * *

><p><strong>Just to clear it up, Chapter three was filmed from within the womb. No fetus was harmed in it's making.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

_**Okay, back, and almost at the finish line. I've been far too busy for my liking, but haven't foprgotten. I just got a brand new whif of inspiration I like to call "Being Alone In the Dark Drunk." It's quite amazing for me. I do not suggest anyone else do this. Let's go!**_

* * *

><p>Chapter Five<p>

* * *

><p>Years later, Lydia started to give. I could see her shrink with despair as we raised Isabelle without him. And it wasn't right, it wasn't fair. So I started looking, hunting. And the prey ended up walking right into my trap, as creatures of habit do.<p>

Grande Masquerade. That was where the rabbit fell. Arriving in the white and silver filled hall of associates and family connections, all in masques, in the costume I had sent him. Honestly, his curiosity should have warned him that it was a trap. It should been his "Spidey Sense." But just like the cat, curiosity would kill this rabbit.

I watched from the shadows of the New York mansion I rented. These people all enjoying themselves, unaware of the plot they aided. He mingled, he drank, he dance with strange men and women in strange costume. His own suit and bunny masque blending perfectly, but sticking out to anyone who knew what he was here for.

My friends in wolf masques watching me, waiting to move in. I knew they were ready. We had planned this for months. I gave the first go. She stalked in. Blond hair framing a brown jeweled masque, the eyes veiled by a thin fabric. Enough visibility for her to see him, but him not to see her.

Her hand slid across his wait as she circled him; he was caught already. He followed as she moved exotically around the crowd. She lead him to the other wolves easily, each of them throwing him off, causing him to play perfectly.

What other way to enter a masquerade, other than to "Masquerade" from The Phantom of the Opera? They lead him to the base of the stairs where I took my post. And I they crescendo, they house lights fell, and the spotlights rose. One on myself, and one in him. Everyone watched as I walked down slowly, intricately, and placed my right hand behind his head and pulled him into a passion filled kiss that he would never forget.

I took his hand in mine and led him up the staircase. At this point, I could have killed him easily, but that's not what I wanted. I wanted to kill him emotionally, wear him down and open his eyes. And I knew every trick to do so.

I led him to the master bedroom and stripped him, leaving my masque on. He wouldn't fight me. He'd let me leave it on. Part if me hoped he'd realize when he saw my body. And he did. Especially when he saw the tattoo on my biceps. Three hearts, leading to my forearm. Each one baring a different name. Lydia. Isabelle. Stiles. I think he almost fainted. But then he asked, "why?" I kissed him again and took my masque off...


	6. Chapter 6

**_Eh, I guess I'll give you one more tonight efore I make you wait another week. Here's Chapter Six Of My Faux Fur Future._**

* * *

><p>Chapter Six<p>

* * *

><p>"You could have left me alone. "<p>

"You could have stayed."

We were calm as we spoke. There was no need to argue. He had missed too much, and we had loved too hard to argue at this point. That didn't mean I would fight to get him back home. To get him to the daughter he never knew.

"She's seven now."

"And she's exactly how I imagined you were as a seven year old. Curious, excitable, loving, adorable, the list goes on. I even wrote it down. Your father validated my assumptions. She is your daughter."

"She shouldn't be."

He was staring at the floor, naked. Exactly how I wanted him; emotionally, mentally, and physically naked. I moved in and kissed him again. It was my turn.

"Why Stiles?"

"Because I love her."

"No. Why hate yourself? How long gas this been stewing."

Then a tear fell, and he kept suit and fell into my arms. He told me everything, from how he left me because he new Lydia loved him, to how he had been wishing Isabelle was ours, that we had adopted her. That he would never regret Lydia. That his only regret was hiding away and not loving himself. He was still fragile, and I knew how to fix it.

The next morning, when I woke, he was curled into me, gripping my right forearm, to prevent me from leaving the way he did. He was a broken man, but the love I net in high school, the love I would always love. He was mine again. And soon he would be ours.

On the plane, I told him everything. How Lydia moved on and married Anthony. How Anthony knew everything. How Isabelle cried when she lost her first tooth. How I loved him. How I told Isabelle that he loves her too mich to stay. How bright she was. How he lit up any room. I hoped that seeing her would show him, remind him who he was. And I told him how we were all waiting for him.

"Will she hate me?"

"She doesn't. In fact, she loves you so much. Everyday she wishes on the first star she sees that her third daddy would come home instead of loving her from far away. The funny thing is, somehow she learned that the first star you see in sky is actually Venus, so now she waits for the second star. Every night for the past two weeks. It was breaking our hearts."

"So you came out here, to New York, to get me."

"Yes."

"For her."

"Mostly."

"Why else?"

"For me."

"That's so much effort though."

"I know. You should know that from here in out, all the effort is yours. I won't chase you agian."


End file.
